


Kiss the Pain Way

by stannigram



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Mentions of Cancer, body image issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 10:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1069540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stannigram/pseuds/stannigram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are hands against her thighs, pulling her close, and a warm chin nestled snuggly in the juncture of her neck. There are lips pressing against her neck. The small tugs of a smile grace her face as hands trace meaningless patterns on her stomach making their way towards her chest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss the Pain Way

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: This fic has implied breast cancer in it. If you do not like cancer fics then you should probably not read any further. Allison had breast cancer and is now in chemotherapy.

Looking in the mirror, Allison gingerly touches the cheeks jutting sickening from her face at in human angles like she has not eaten in days. Tracing the yellowing bruises under her tired eyes with quivering fingers tips. Stroking the lips that once smiled freely, and pulls them up at the corners to force a grin only to give up in defeat because it is painfully sad to look at. Ghosting her palms against the smooth flesh of her hairless head, and pretending she was running her hands through the long brown curly hair. Dropping her hands she apprehensively removes Lydia’s button up t-shirt she is wearing, and lets it falling gracelessly from her skinny arms.

Hands fall to search tentatively across soft skin: gliding uneasily against the smooth expanse of a trembling stomach, caressing the rib bones protruding ghastly from her sides, taking their time to feel out all the imperfections of her once perfect body. She fights off the need to vomit as they slow to a halt just as they reach their destination: her black lacey bra. Trailing her hands along the edge until they reached the tiny clasp in the back to pop it open, and free her of the hiding what really lay beneath the fancy materials.

Dropping the garment, she turns sideways to admire her now nonexistent womanly curves from the side. Disgust fills body at what she sees: marred flesh and a flat chest that once held bosom. Tears brimming in her eyes as she brings her hands steadily to cup the imaginary swell of her breast. Hate and regret filling her body as she curses the cell that never stopped growing in her chest, leaving her with this weak hollow shell of a person.

She can hear her mother. Can see her standing behind her in the mirror—a reflection of her own securities—yelling at how weak she has become. Claiming her as failure because a matriarch would never surrender to the sickness, and it gets to her. She believes what echoes in her mind, that she is no longer a strong huntress but instead frail little human who depends on others for her survival. Believes that no one wants her because she was become so fragile and burdensome and revolting to look at.

She wishes that maybe the sickness would take her now so she wouldn’t have to deal with the day Lydia decides she is abhorrent to look at, so she wouldn't have to wait in apprehension until the day she does.

Then there are hands against her thighs, pulling her close, and a warm chin nestled snuggly in the juncture of her neck. There are lips pressing against her neck. The small tugs of a smile grace her face as hands trace meaningless patterns on her stomach making their way towards her chest. They stop just below her chest and any traces of happiness dying in the inferno of anxiousness that accompanies anyone seeing her scars.

The hands that find their way on to her chest make her squirm uncomfortably. Bringing to mind the memories of knowledgeable hands skillfully kneading her breast in the dark, of teeth nibbling teasingly on a hardening nipple, and the sensations from the attention of a dirty mouth. Bringing the Fear of what her lover sees: a leper limping around in the skin of a once desirable lover. Anxiety building with each fleeting touch as she envisions the moment Lydia will no longer yearn for her deformed body. For the day when Lydia will find someone better, who will fulfill her desires of healthy boobs and a body that wasn’t slowly tearing itself a part.

She is turned around and pulled down to the floor. Her body snuggled deep in the lap of her lover, and she tries desperately to look anywhere but those keen green eyes for fear of seeing the horror that would surely rest there. Fighting to keep her tears in and seem strong she stares defiantly at the wall.

“Beautiful.” Lydia whisper as a wet tongue skims the sensitive pink flesh that mars her skin.

A face nuzzles her flat chest, a tongue flicking soothingly against the angry flesh disfiguring her chest, teeth lightly grazing the sensitive skin and unforgiving lips working quickly to sooth her quiet pleas. Touches she had once longed now fill her with trepidation as she waits for Lydia’s remarks of repulsion. They won’t come she knows but the apprehension eats away at her mind like the sickness eating away at her body.

“Stop it.” She says forcefully trying to pull the head away.

Eyes staring curiously up at her, “Might I ask why?”

“You may not have noticed, but my boobs aren’t there anymore, Lydia.” She doesn’t mean for it to sound as angry as it does. Doesn’t mean for the tears . She knows she is lashing out. That all the insecurities and hostilities she had dammed up inside where finally about to overflow and Lydia would be the one to

Rolling her eyes, Lydia states patronizingly, “I didn’t fall in love with your boobs, Allison. I fell in love with you.”

Her voice catches in her throat as her lover places loving touches to her aching and tired body. Sobs wrecking her deteriorating frame as her lover’s words wash over her body in soothing waves. Allowing them to carry her away from the agony of the sickness slowly eating away at her body. Holding her close, shaking hands threading in the curly red hair, as she allowed the woman to lick away all the insecurities and pain her body harbors.

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I wrote during Polisci. It is my first time attempting an Allydia piece so I am sorry if their characters are a little off.


End file.
